Host Clubs Are Doomed To Be Bitten To Death
by Anpan Roller
Summary: This is bound to happen when you mistook a murderous prefect wanting to rid you of your livelihood for a potential client. 6918; One-Shot


**A/N: **This is really going to be the last fic I'm writing this month and next. I swear to Hibari on a very empty stomach.

This fic is made possible by Mukuro's "Kufufu no Fu", because for some reason he sounded so 'come and get me' in the song, which made me think he's a suitable candidate for a host. Lol, he's in the wrong manga! He should be in Ouran High instead! XD

* * *

Bouts of screams reverberated from the corridors into the luxury-adorned room. "Hi-Hibari sama! Pl-Please... Bwargh!" The thuds of bodies being slammed onto the walls and flung across the walkway were a complete contrast to the serene and calm atmosphere inside the room, with the occupant sipping his English tea in a relaxed manner.

The doors swung ajar, and collided with the walls before bouncing back harshly. "What is the meaning of this, explain yourself," the cold, stern words undulated from the equally strict and harsh prefect standing at the doorstep. Whipping his tonfas into position, Hibari spat with passionate hatred, "Rokudo Mukuro."

"Kufufu..." Mukuro tittered, and elegantly replaced his exquisite tea cup on the similarly exquisite table. "I don't remember any appointment at this time slot. You can get to my secretaries Ken and Chikus-"

"On accounts of trespassing into school grounds, setting up an illegal hosting business, and calling me by my first name, I'll bite you to death--three thousand times," Hibari doled out due punishment, speaking as though he had done so many times before, which is true.

Mukuro stood up, brushing his expensive-looking Victorian-era coat, and informed, "I'm having an appointment with the lovely Tsunako-chan at twelve, but if you insist-"

"Four thousand times."

Mukuro paused and raised an amused eyebrow at the skylark, the end of his lips tugging into a smirk. Before he could open his mouth to say something Hibari announced again, "Five thousand."

"Kufufu... Getting nervous aren't we? Is this your first time?" Mukuro attempted to calm down the permanently murderous Hibari, trying to make him comfortable.

Hibari only replied, letting his deathly glare do the conveying of his seriousness, "Making a lame joke is also against school rules."

Mukuro chuckled again, endlessly amused by his peculiar--yet so Hibari--antics. "Ffn. Must be. Well, I've never had a male client before either, so we're pretty much on the same threshold. But I could try if you wa-"

Hibari decided that he had received enough discriminatory and demeaning remarks from the offending man, and promptly launched himself forward, tonfa in strong grip. He swung the metallic weapon at the Mist Guardian's face, ready to disfigure it beyond recognition, just like what he did with the delinquent with the weird eyebrows. Actually he thinks his eyebrows are more pleasant-looking after the beating up.

But Mukuro's face suddenly disappeared, such that he sliced only thin air. He didn't even had time to register where he went until he felt himself being shoved onto the antique chair.

When he looked up, he found the answer to his puzzlement. A spark of interest was ignited in him. Being pinned down like that, although he was still peppered with resentment at his relative vulnerability, it also meant that Rokudo Mukuro had gotten stronger.

However, Mukuro's face was so close to his he could feel himself breathing in his carbon dioxide, which was gross, and which constitutes to heavier bites to death. Heck, he's going to bite him to death, _and_ feed his carcass to the vultures he made friends with in the desert.

Speaking in a low voice which sounded invariably audible, Mukuro teased, amusement flushing in his lips, "Tell you what. For your first time here, I'll throw in something extra." His hand released his clutch on Hibari's arm, and ran it over his buttons, threatening to twitch it open.

Hibari stole the opportunity to strike his tonfas at that illegally smug look on his face again, but was once more restricted, when Mukuro headbutted him, with his lips.

Amidst the heavy lips planted on his, Hibari managed to growl with a detesting scorn on his face, "I'll burn your school down after I fed you to the-nn! Vultures..."

Mukuro parted the half-kiss, half-attack--or at least in Hibari's perspective--and gazed into the skylark's eyes with his own mismatched ones. "The impatient type, aren't you? Then I'll advice you to take the Express Package where waiting time is minimu-"

Hibari, understanding that this was another battle altogether, hauled the pineapple-head in and smacked his lips against his. His tactic was to humiliate him by beating him at his own game. He was so engrossed in keeping his battle strategy that he didn't even care when both their weight and the force at which Mukuro was slammed in toppled the chair and made them fall backwards, smashing into the carpet.

Mukuro, albeit slightly taken aback by his sudden display of passion, could not help feeling tickled by the maladroit lip smacking. Apparently the prefect's idea of a kiss was squeezing up his lips until they impede the nostrils, and attempt to suffocate him to death.

Parting his lip to let pass an experienced tongue, and to push back the tender flesh--honestly how could such a tough fighter like him have such... gentle features?--for breathing, Mukuro uncontrollably let out a soft sliver of moan. How interesting, he's never let slip a single syllable with his previous clients before.

His tongue slipped in between the moistened lips, and lingered about his teeth. Cracking and eyelid open to glare deadly at him, Hibari threatened through gritted fangs, "Do you really wish to be bitten to de- Nn!"

An improper exclamation eluded out of him when agile tongue shattered his defense and probed about his mouth valiantly, humiliatingly teasing him.

Almost instinctively his enraged hands swiped down to clasp onto the opponent's shouders, fisting his shirt, ready to shove him away. But it occurred to him again that this was a battle, and he vowed to defeat this herbivore at the last fight they had. Therefore, with the fabric wrenched in his fist, Hibari heaved Mukuro in.

The first thought that stroke Mukuro when Hibari heaved him in for a deeper kiss, was that the disciplinary committee member could really hold his breath. Even he as the more experienced one had to pause for a brief while to breathe, but Hibari, noting the lag in defense, took the opportunity and promptly snuck inhis carnivorous tongue.

He was more rough and reckless, smashing across every area of the cavern like how he flung his worthless opponents. Hibari grounded his teeth against the pineapple-scented ones, slamming hard on the swelling lips in between. Mukuro could feel him smirk against his mouth when both of them tasted a drip of fresh blood, although he was quite certain that was not his, he hoped.

While the inexperienced Hibari was trashing about in his mouth, the Cloud Guardian's legs wrapped themselves around Mukuro's waist, pinning his lower body and crashing him down. His hand found its way up, and landed on his shoulder blades. It fumbled about his exposed neck, before trailing up to run his fingers through the soft locks of purple hair, and yanking him in even closer, so that he could make his kill more torturous for the offender, by not allowing any form of escape.

Mukuro, of course, was too intrigued by his customer's unseen side of femininity to be bothered about the damage done to his body. He lapped voraciously at the fragile tongue, licking every thread of his aroma; his special Hibari fragrance. His palm ghost down the boy's soft and delicate cheeks, and lingered there, spreading the wet excess saliva that strayed across his faint blush. Even the hand he was supporting his weight with was sprawled over Hibari's head, stealing chances to twirl strands of his raven hair.

He should really consider starting a business for male clients soon.

Hibari's thighs soon grew lethargic, and began sliding down. Just when the heels of his school-approved Namimori High shoes drew a line down Mukuro's waist and across his butt, Hibari's resolution for victory forced him to hold on longer. Not caring about what became of his prey's soon-to-be carcass, he tensed his muscles, sinking into the sensitive flesh in between Mukuro's legs.

Mukuro was snapped out of his shrewd business expansion plan, when a jolt of erotic electricity shot through his veins. He winced, shoulders clamming up, and withdrew from the captivating lips with a soft 'pop', and groaned in a cracked voice.

Upon hearing the articulation that signaled his kill, Hibari smirked despite the strand of spit connecting their lips delicately breaking and fusing back into the layers already laid over his mouth.

Mukuro flipped open an eyelid, sensing the abrupt peculiarity in the situation. He panted, gazing down at Hibari through narrow, needy slits of eyes.

Heaving as hard as his rival, Hibari declared proudly, "I win this time, herbivore." With that, he threw Mukuro's limp weight off him, making the baffled host collide into the floor. The prefect stood up and rearranged his crumpled clothes, instructing his pathetic prey with utmost authority, "From today onwards this club shall be closed with immediate effect."

Picking up the neglected tonfas and wiping away the stains on his face, he promptly strolled out with the same expressionless face he entered the battleground with earlier.

Suddenly, he felt a heavy arm grab his shoulder, driving its thirsty fingers into the bones. He immediately twisted around, magnanimously giving the weakling a chance for a satisfactory explanation.

Head bowed low from the exhaustion, and still wheezing with greed, a pair of red and purple eyes glimmered with deviousness under the unusually wild and messy fringe.

"We still... have the Sakura Deluxe Package..."

* * *

Tsunako skipped fervently along the corridor, almost squirming with excitement on her appointment with Mukuro-sama. On turning a corner, faint cries which amplitude grew with increment resonated across the empty hallway, save the piles of defeated bodies sprawled all over.

"Kyouya-chan~! You must join the club~!"

Tsunako knew she was in for a good bargain.

* * *

**A/N: **Yay! Hyper Dying Will Typing Speed REBORN!! What am I saying? I don't know either. I just know I typed very fast for this fic, because I've already written it out on paper. (And is praying very hard none of my family reads it.)

Sa, my first venture into the 6918 territory, please be gentle!!

And as for Tsunako, I'll leave it up to you guys to decide whether she is really a random OC, or some distant relative of the fastest fish in the world, or you know, _the_ fastest fish in the world.

And thank you for reading, and I hope you like it! :D Reviews are very welcomed too, for Tsunako-chan will be very happy during her appointment!


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